


A Dragon's Cry (Echoes In Shadows)

by BellaSair92, JunsuiYume



Series: Silver Blood, Violet Blades [1]
Category: Original Work, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ALL IN THE PAST, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Asgard can't hold him, BAMF Harley cause he's a little shit with a big attitude, BAMF Pepper, BAMF Rhodey, BAMF Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes is Independant, But he's also damn vicious, Demons, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Fenrir and Shiryoku get along so well, Frigga is alive because I love her, Frigga's A++ Parenting, FrostIron because Loki needs the love too, Fuck you Natasha for your BIASED FUCKING ASSESSMENT, Fuck you Odin, Fury Learns From His Own Mistakes With Tony, He needs more brightness, He's so done with Steve's shit, Hybrids, I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good, I am a ball of SALTY RAGE AND I WILL NOT BE STOPPED, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Minor Character Deaths, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Iron man AND Tony Stark Recommended, JARVIS I REFUSE TO BELIEVE YOU'RE GONE, Jormungad is a lil shit, Laura Barton is done with Clint's shit, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki is bouncing around like a little shit, M/M, Magic, Mischief, More love for Iron Man, Multi, Nick Fury is a Good Bro, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Not Thor: The Dark World Compliant, Other, People have hurt him enough, Peter Parker is a muffin and we love him, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protect Tony, Protective Bruce, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Nick Fury, Protective OCs, Protective Pepper, Protective Rhodey, Protective Vision (Marvel), Semi-Spider-man:Homecoming Compliant, Shameless Abuse of Norse and Japanese Mythology, She is a good Mom, Sleipnir is a precious babes, So is Hela, So many tags, So so many - Freeform, Soul Bond, Steve Rogers is Not Captain America, There are also strange objects similar but also not similar to the Infinity Stones, They don't have the same powers, This will have a lot of dark elements tho, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark will have a family, Tony Stark-centric, but are still very special and powerful, but still there, dad tony stark, not thor: ragnarok compliant, not wanda maximoff friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-05-18 19:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaSair92/pseuds/BellaSair92, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunsuiYume/pseuds/JunsuiYume
Summary: It was never enough.Hewas never enough.No matter what he tried, it somehow always crashed and burned and left him in worse circumstances.And chasing after Steve Rogers was the worse fucking mistake he'd ever made, but it was his shitty luck that it took such a large betrayal for him to realize that.Tony Stark was tired.So fucking tired.He had wanted a place to belong, with people who would actually stay by his sidejust once.And it's as he's laying almost dead in Siberia that he remembers, all he had to do was call for the one person besides Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy who hadknownhim, who had neverbetrayedhim.What he didn't know, was that he would get much more than he anticipated.





	1. Remembering Violet (Please Hear My Call)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a few months now.  
> Ill say this clearly:  
> I despise Steve Rogers. I despise Wanda. I detest Natasha. I hate so many of the ex-avengers that I really don't want to be as nice to them as Ill force myself to be. But the days of them abusing Tony are done. Because Tony Stark has been through enough shit and it astounds me how far their heads have been shoved into their own asses. They believe they have the moral high ground to a man who always tried his best to HELP, an it sickens me.  
> Anyway. I've had an idea, and now I've gotten to the point I'm going to write it and say fuck it. I love Tony, and Loki, and I'm going to try and heal the hurt.  
> Thor: Ragnarok didn't happen in this, nor did Thor 2, because I love Frigga and she deserves to live.  
> The pairing will be four way, and you'll see why later.  
> Notice: I do not own anything to do with the Avengers, or any Marvel series really. However, the few OCs that I introduce in this are mine, completely.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broken, bitter, and dying. An illusion of hopelessness, until memories come to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Marvel Cinematic Universe does not and never will belong to me. I only own my OCs, of which will show throughout the story.  
> Please enjoy my Salty Team Iron Man fanfic!  
> Note:/ I have revised all of the chapters due to a sudden bout of inspiration, so I apologize for those of you who are likely to be irritated with having to read back on it.

*

He supposed, since his body was now a mess of broken bones and bloody skin that was slowly going numb from the cold, that he really should have seen it coming. But. hindsight really was a cold-hearted bitch when it slapped you full on the face with a vibranium patriotic shield, with the added element of a blue-eyed blond American idol who you worshipped as a child and thought as a  _ friend _ wielding it. 

Though, thankfully-  _ so fucking thankfully _ , the feeling of  _ agonized betrayal _ had been replaced by  _ anger  _ soon after he had been  _ left behind _ . He’d passed from wondering  _ why _ and had dipped into the burning rage of  _ Fuck You  _ that had kept him warm for a good few moments with how volcanic it blazed. Unfortunately, not even that had lasted for long, slipping away after a while as the cold continued to build.

As Anthony Edward Stark stared up the the ceiling of the Siberian bunker in a broken suit- left,  _ betrayed _ , injured and forgotten by his childhood hero and teenage resentment and his bestie- with no way to call Friday, or anyone, for help- he briefly contemplated not getting up. His sorrow and rage had long burnt out, leaving a vague sense of hurt and bitter resignation that had also trickled away to join his limbs in blissful numbness. Now, all he felt was the blissful emptiness following yet another hope  _ crushed. _

He supposed that was the only good thing about this, not being able to really feel the pain anymore, both physical and emotional. To have the pain of the realization that he had  _ lost _ the people he had  _ thought  _ were his  _ friends  _ dulled to where it didn’t even matter anymore.

To be honest, he should have seen it coming from fucking continents away. They had been unable to click from the very beginning; always arguing, always bickering, unable to compromise even when Tony tried to be the one to offer several olive branches- the only one to offer any sort of olive branch, now that he thought on it. The lack of foresight and preparation for this had been the product of hope. He’d been too caught up in the fantasy the Avengers Initiative had conjured, and had ignored the signs to instead place his beliefs in that  _ naive _ hope that he could finally,  _ finally _ , have somewhere he belonged; that he had a  _ family _ , full of misfits and survivors like himself. But now he could see what he’d forced himself to ignore before: that the Avengers had merely been smashed together like mismatched gears; good in a pinch, but not stable enough to last.

The Avengers weren’t family. They weren’t even friends.

And it had taken betrayal after betrayal after  _ fucking betrayal _ to come to that final conclusion.

Had he really looked and thought on it back then instead of ignoring his doubts and diving headfirst into disaster, he would have known. Would have  _ seen. _

Because it had been obvious that Steve Rogers had never liked or even respected him, right from the very beginning with his ridiculous arguments on the Helicarrier; going on about how he wasn't a hero when he never claimed to be. Always ranting and raving about how irresponsible he was, how he was too abrasive, too loud, only in it for himself; too Tony Fucking Stark in that he didn't bow and let Rogers take the wheel and make every single decision for him from how he acted in public to what he made for the Avengers to even what he  _ talked about _ when around the others and what he was  _ allowed _ to do in  _ his own fucking home! _

He'd told Rogers he wasn't a soldier, and yet America's golden gerbil had never gotten that fact through his thick fucking skull. But, seeing it all so clearly now, he could see that Rogers had never cared about Tony or his opinion in the slightest in the first place. He was just another reminder of the past to America's Golden Boy.

Rogers had put up with him because of Howard, dear old drunken dad who never gave a fuck about his own damned  **son** while he was off gallivanting through the arctic trying to find a washed-out super soldier and a metal Frisbee ( _ He could forgive Howard for Maria and Jarvis, could comprehend that he hadn’t been at fault for their deaths, but that didn’t excuse his abysmal parenting _ ). Nothing else.

He’d decided from the start that Tony Stark wasn’t worth his time.

His opinion had likely been based on files provided by SHIELD- though, now that he thought about it, it was likely HYDRA had tweaked whatever they had planned to show him, since good Ol' Nicky had wanted them to work as a  _ team _ \-  files that likely had info on every party he'd ever thrown, every sex tape, and every reckless decision and stunt he’d ever done without the context from those incidents; painting him as an overgrown, depraved child who didn't know any better than to act out to get attention; rather than the  _ human  _ who had worked and worked in order to constantly rise from the ashes he’d been beaten into, and who had made  _ mistakes  _ along the way. Steve Rogers had taken that information as fact and at face value, not even trying to look deeper before he was trying to choke Tony with his self-righteous patriotism and arrogant moral code, like he had never made  _ one _ mistake when he constantly  _ lied _ on his enrollment form and constantly disobeyed orders. Maybe that was the mistake: no one had ever held Captain America  _ responsible _ , and now he thought only  _ he _ was right.

But Tony had dealt with the arrogance and the hypocrisy; had shoved away his desire to retaliate in a more volatile way instead of snapped words and playing nice for the team, hoping they’d accept him because he was  _ trying _ to be good. He had done everything he could think of to become a part of something  _ bigger _ , to create a  _ family _ out of the misfits he’d been placed with.

He had tried to make up for his mistakes, to 'erase the blood from his ledger', to quote Romanoff. 

But it was never enough. It had  _ never  _ been  _ enough _ for them.

No matter what, he always made a mistake; he was always in the wrong.

He did as he was asked to find the Tesseract, but refused to be another blind soldier who followed orders to a corporation that thrived in the shadows? Rogers took a shot at him thinking he knew everything there was to know about Tony _Fucking_ Stark, while Romanoff went on and on about his ego being the weak link in the chain connecting the team, and Loki had escaped while injuring several, killing Agent ( _but not really because_ _of course Fury would keep his foray back to life a secret from the rest of them. Too bad Tony Stark didn't take not knowing important things very well. Fury still hadn't had decent firewalls, even with Tony generously hacking him every week to give his tech department some playtime. He still didn’t now that he'd pulled SHIELD back together and renamed it SWORD with Agent as Director and vetted agents that had been burned in the info dump but hadn't been killed working for it. He’d been waiting for Fury to show up in all his shadowy dramatics before the mess with the Accords had started)_ , and causing several more disasters that had barely been worked through in time.

Created the Avengers Tower and designing entire floors for them after the invasion was over and he’d been given a nice big dosage of PTSD from a hole in the sky, and how did that work out? Rogers, Romanoff, and Barton stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D, Bruce stayed every once in a while, and Thor fucked off to Asgard. He was left mostly alone in a tower he had designed with the hopes of creating a family environment, with only his bots, Jarvis, and Pepper as constant company and Rhodey popping in whenever he could.

And during the incident with the Triskelion and the Helicarriers, he could have helped when HYDRA came out and tried to take over with Project Insight! But no, they had left him out of it and endangered the lives of countless operatives out in the field in a complete data dump of SHIELD and HYDRA’s dirty laundry across the internet and killed  _ multiple _ civilians who had been on the ground  _ under _ those damned aircrafts! Had he not stepped in anyway when Hill called him after all was said and done without their knowledge, almost all of those people who had nothing to do with HYDRA would have died from Rogers and Romanoff’s brilliant plan that had nearly gotten every single loyal SHIELD operative killed. He and Jarvis had spent countless hours trying to save everyone they could as quickly as possible, trying to get them out of the line of fire and safe and managing to save over a third of them. He’d even managed to grab Laura and her kids and got them to a new safe house. And all Rogers and Romanoff got for all of that was a measly slap to the wrist and public exposure. And Romanoff! Romanoff had  _ arrogantly _ stated that they  _ needed _ her, that she  _ couldn’t  _ go to jail because she was too  _ important! _ She took a shot at  _ his _ fucking ego  _ all the fucking time _ , but woe be  _ anyone _ to point out  _ hers! _

Or how about that time when he'd tried to make sure what he’d seen through Wanda’s manipulations wouldn’t come to pass, with Bruce's help and a whole  _ new _ helping of PTSD and worsening panic attacks? Ultron awakened, killed Jarvis- but not really because his baby boy had been  _ brilliant _ , even when he was so  _ broken _ and scattered and  _ barely _ even himself, marked the birth of Vision with the use of those beautiful but  _ broken  _ codes, caused mass destruction that had gotten many people in Sokovia  _ killed _ and many more injured, and had driven a wedge in the tentative trust the others had begun to form in him while driving Bruce away and into obscurity to where even he couldn't find him. Though, maybe he was being a bit presumptuous. Maybe they’d been manipulating him from the beginning, since they hadn’t ever really  _ trusted _ him. And Bruce…

Of all the Avengers, Tony had thought he and Bruce had actually been  _ friends _ . 

And even when he tried to Keep Wanda safe from the people for what happened in Lagos, what happened? He had been accused of confining her out of spite by Rogers after trying to convince him to sign the Accords and returning home finding Vision ( _ His beautiful baby boy that was so  _ **_young,_ ** _ who was still learning _ ) stuck  _ twenty fucking stories _ through the floor because Rogers had gotten Clint Baron to come and get her without even knowing what the hell was going on, and had given a  **riveting** little speech that caused Wanda to go stupid and attack Vision who had tried to  _ talk _ sense into her.

And let’s not forget when he had tried to _compromise_ with the UN and between the team, signing the Accords in order to have a chance at _amending_ them and working with _Ross_ in order to get enough dirt on him to get him _out_! What happened? Rogers refused to listen to the wishes of over _117 countries_ , citing that the UN was a government ( _It most definitely was_ ** _not_** ) with an agenda, and then causing mass destruction in Romania, Berlin, and Germany along with multiple casualties and injuries to _civilians_ and police force alike. Then, like the topping on the proverbial cake, he recruited a retired SHIELD agent, an unstable enhanced woman, an unknown with Pym technology, an Air Force winged-veteran that went on to help PTSD veterans after his discharge, and his 40s _bestie_ , James Buchanan Barnes in order to duke it out against Tony’s own team over their disagreement with the Accords and their lack of _trust,_ in him specifically. And that ended with Rhodey paralyzed ( _His Platypus, confined to a hospital bed and later a chair, all because of an_ ** _idiot_** _with barely a brain cell and a woman who despised him distracting his baby boy_ ), Underoos being put in danger multiple times by his inability to follow Tony’s guidelines but miraculously managing to stay out of the very worst of it, the team divided with the spider spy turning on him once again and aiding Rogers and Barnes’ escape while electrocuting his Royal Kittyness, and the rest of Roger’s team in custody.

And after, when he’d gone to the Raft for information, he’d left heading for Rogers and Barnes to _ help _ , had gone as a  _ friend _ . He’d cut off Friday to basic controls and had put his feelings aside to do what needed to be done.

And what had that gotten him?

_Lies_ and _betrayal_. Forced to watch the murder of his parents _with the killer standing._ **Right. There**! 

Howard,  _ Howard  _ he could forgive. Howard had never really been a father; always spouting vitriol at him when he was sober and always going on and on about  _ Captain America _ and never paying Tony,  _ his son _ , any attention when he was either sober or drunk off his ass; most of the time he was too angry at him to be anything other than violent. Tony had never been enough,  _ never _ . Howard had made that clear when he’d smashed his first circuit board while shouting at his cowering four year old child in rage, his face twisted into the monster of Tony’s childhood. Even if he hadn’t been responsible for the crash, that didn’t change the fact that he had  _ never _ been a  _ father _ .

But  _ mom _ . Maria, who’d  _ tried, _ even when it wasn’t  _ enough,  _ to be a mother to him. Who whispered to him in Italian when things got too bad and Jarvis had patched him up bit by bit with bandages and the rest of the love he craved when the father who was supposed to, didn’t care for him. Mom, who had taught him to cook  _ Bucatini  _ and bake when she wasn’t doped up on antidepressants and party drugs, and who had called him  _ bambino _ with as much love and care as she was capable of. Maria had  _ tried _ to be a mother, even when Howard’s iron grip forced her to parties and galas to spread his influence and build up his image. If her death had been  _ quick _ , he wouldn’t have been as angry. But no, HYRDA’s weapon had  _ strangled  _ her, taking her life slowly while she struggled to breath. That, more than anything, was what caused his breakdown earlier.

He could understand now, numb and semi-calm while his body was slowly failing him, that Barnes had been the gun, and HYRDA had been the hand to pull the trigger. It didn’t fully excuse the POW, not with everything he did that  _ wasn’t _ HYDRA, but Tony was rational sometimes and reasonable most others. He knew where and where not to put blame.

James Buchanan Barnes didn’t even really know  _ who _ he was; even Tony could see that. And he hadn’t been the source of most of his anger.

No, most of his anger had been pointed at  _ Steven Grant Rogers, Captain Fucking America _ , the one who had  _ lied _ to him, who had  _ constantly _ stated that  _ poor old Bucky _ didn’t  _ do it _ , all the while using his money and connections to search for his parents’ killer.. _. _

If he had been given  _ time _ , time to process everything, things wouldn’t have ended up like this. They could have  _ talked _ , instead of Rogers trying to  _ lie _ to him  _ again _ and escalating the situation by hitting him back instead of  _ talking  _ him down. Obviously, Tony had never registered on Rogers’ radar save for his money and his influence, so he wasn’t  _ worth _ the effort of emotional comforting to the good Ol’ Captain.

_ Fuck _ , he’d been an idiot. Rhodey, Pepper, Happy; he’d neglected them for a team of ‘superheroes’ who had never had his back to begin with. He could finally smash those Captain-America-tinted glasses to hell and back now that he had  _ recognized _ his idiocy. It was less painful than he’d thought it would be, getting rid of whatever feelings he had left for a team that had despised him, probably from the beginning. Instead, he was left with a harsh and brutal reality, dying in a HYDRA bunker with no hope of calling anyone for help or getting himself out. If he moved, his chest was likely to crumble on him, and he couldn’t feel enough of his body to guess what else he’d need to watch out for.

It seemed he had gambled on a bad bet with Death this time, or Death had gotten tired of losing and had used weighted dice.

A hacking cough cut off his thoughts, Tony unable to stop a groan as pain flared from the movement. His didn't move as copper flooded his mouth, flowing down his chin, too tired to want to look at the mess his chest most likely was.

He was  _ so tired _ ...

All of this time, he had gifted his time, his money, resources, his tech, hell, his fucking  _ soul _ to the Avengers, hoping they'd  _ like _ him, that the mistrust and dislike would change and they would become something  _ more _ .

And, at one point, he knew he'd grown to love Rogers, like he’d thought he loved Pepper. But, that had started to fade once Ultron had happened, the distance and disdain directed at him growing until he took a complete step back, disappearing from the team but still supporting them, like he’d thought he’d loved Pepper.

_ What a damn fool he’d turned out to be. _

He'd become Icarus, flying too close to the sun and melting his own wings. And now he paid the price. A part of him wished it had never happened. But, to be honest, that part was the small child still clambering for approval from Howard. The rest of him, of the rest of him was angry; angry and sad but resolute. He should have seen it coming. He’d already gotten lucky with Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy. He had been greedy, wanting more. But that lesson had been learned well.

Now, all he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and finally stop the pain. It was exhausting, acting like nothing hurt, like he wasn't screaming in pain inside every time he was hurt..

The Arc Reactor had been bad enough, reduced lung capacity and all. But now, now the pain of heartbreak had been added to his list of injuries as well as his heart and mind finally deciding to coexist for just a few moments to let go of the toxins he’d accumulated. He was finally able to let them  _ go. _

Natasha was the easiest to let go of. She had never really earned his trust no matter how hard she tried to slither in, always watching him and trying to pry his secrets away or fishing for the weakest parts of his armor to manipulate. She had come into his life as Natalie Rushman, spying on him for SHIELD and encouraging his recklessness when she knew he had been dying, never once thinking him as anything but a target for her mission. And then, the assessment she had given had been like a slap to the face and had preyed on even more of his insecurities, making him want to prove them wrong out of a twisted need to feel like he belonged. 

That had been his biggest mistake; caring about what she had thought of him, what all of them had thought of him. 

At one point though, he’d actually thought they were getting to be friends. She’d joined him on the couch on the common floor several nights when neither could sleep, and they’d shared moments of quiet camaraderie and slight jokes here and there. But now, after everything was said and done, she had stabbed him in the back again, aiding Rogers and taking a shot at his ‘’ego’ one more time before going off grid. Friday could track her easily, of course, but why bother?

She had apparently never really cared about him. So it was high time he stopped caring about her.

Clint was another easy one. Once, he'd thought they had been friends. They'd had inside jokes, played video games, hell he'd designed any arrow that Clint had wanted, and even others that he didn't even think about. Clint had been immature and fun, always playing pranks and joining in harmless fun and stupid soap operas and even joined Tony in the lab to hang around and watched him work. But Ultron had changed things. Suddenly, Clint had gone from playful banter to cutting remarks; baking with him at midnight to glaring at him whenever he’d entered the same room. He’d done everything short of moving out to avoid Tony, and had hurled hurtful and sharp barbs his way whenever he couldn’t. The barb on the Raft involving Rhodey had been the last straw for Tony to tolerate any more.

And Bruce… 

To be honest, he didn’t think he could let go of Bruce so easily, if at all. Yes, the man had abandoned him after Ultron, but Tony could see, after looking passed his hurt and pain, that it had most likely been necessary. Maximoff had messed with Hulk’s head, and Bruce had to face the repercussions of that. And then, for Romanoff to force the transformation after that, it had probably been too much for Bruce to bear, and he had run. Hulk had been fragile after everything too, so it made more sense for them to run and hide to get themselves back together. Tony understood perfectly, he did, though it didn’t ease his hurt to have his Science Bro gone as Rogers allowed Maximoff on the team and drove him away. Maybe if Bruce had been able to stay, they could have stopped that; could have forced Rogers to  _ listen _ instead of ignoring any negative thing said about the witch.

So, in the end Bruce was the only one he couldn’t let go of; not for doing what he needed to to keep himself from going off the deep end. He just hoped the good doctor would show back up again, since he missed both of them.

Thor was almost as easy as Natasha, since he hadn’t spent very much time with ‘Asgard’s Mightiest Warrior’ outside of the occasional team bonding before Ultron. The choking incident added to the feeling of ease in letting go of any emotional attachments he’d made to the man, since Thor could have easily killed him and hadn’t stopped to think about that fact during his anger. Sometimes, he could still feel those fingers around his throat and had numerous nightmares where Thor hadn’t let him go. 

He was too quick to be violent when angered, too quick to dismiss things he didn’t understand. He hadn’t picked up on the same signs Tony had during the invasion, the miniscule signals that Loki had given and the minute changes in his expression, even though he’d claimed to have known Loki better than anyone. At first, Tony had thought he’s been seeing things wrong, since Thor had so easily dismissed them. But then he’d taken a closer look  at the videos and snapshots taken of the trickster somewhere between then and Ultron, and his suspicions were proven correct; something hadn’t been right. He’d seen it in the tenseness of Loki’s shoulders, how his eyes would flicker from blue to green and back in a flash. Even when they’d been bantering, Loki had given clues; very slight clues, but clues nonetheless. His relief when Tony mentioned that the Avengers would come for him, and the slight panic in his eyes when he’d lifted the scepter all pointed to something more going on behind the scenes. The Loki Thor had spoken about whenever he’d recounted old stories was a far cry from the one they’d met.

Loki was the God of Chaos and Mischief. And Chaos, unlike what most thought, was not just simple destruction. Chaos was change, Entropy; breaking one thing and creating something new from the ashes. What Loki had done during the invasion wasn’t Entropy; it was mindless destruction and attempts at subjugation.

But when he’d tried to tell Thor, to show him the evidence, Thor had waved him off and gone to visit Jane Foster, all the while ignoring possible proof that could help his crazy baby brother. For a guy who wouldn’t shut up about knowing Loki best and loving him more than anyone else, Thor sure hadn’t seemed too eager to hear any possible explanation for Loki’s actions.

Thankfully, he hadn’t seen Thor since Ultron. He only hoped that continued, since he didn’t fancy fighting another would-be ‘friend’ who thought he was only capable of evil acts of depravity.

Compared to Bruce, Steve..Steve was almost  _ easy _ , despite Tony having developed feelings beforehand for him. Yes, it hurt to let go of him, to let go of the last bit of sentiment attached to him, but Tony had to be thorough; that, and he’d finally had enough.

Rogers had been toxic from the very beginning. The argument on the Helicarrier was a prime example of that, where Rogers had judged him, without even  _ knowing _ him. And then, afterwards, whenever Tony said something that went against what he wanted, Rogers either tried to talk down to him or ignored him.

That was definitely noticed after Ultron, when Tony had voiced his doubts on Wanda, and Rogers had shot him down time and time again, saying how she had turned over a new leaf and that she was sorry; when Wanda had never actually  _ apologized _ for anything she’d done. She’d joined them only because she’d seen that Ultron was going to kill  _ everyone _ , including her and her brother. It hadn’t been over some new-found moral code, but simple self-preservation and manipulation.

Rogers had  _ lied _ , manipulated, and treated him like dirt from the very get-go; and now Tony had finally had enough.

Being left to die in a Siberian bunker was the final straw.

In the beginning, the world had coined him as a hero. He had joined the Avengers to prove he could do something  _ right _ , he could be  _ better _ . He could become someone worth loving.

But the Avengers were revealed to be just a joke. Not the  _ ideal _ , no. The ideal was good, if in need of a bit of tweaking. But, the team had been an unstable chemical mixture, like Bruce had said. And it had blown up  _ spectacularly. _

And Tony was left to pick up the pieces.

If he could even pick  _ himself _ up to do so.

Facing the facts, he didn’t think he’d be so lucky this time. His suit was disabled, he couldn’t move unless he wanted to risk worsening his injuries, he wasn’t able to alert anyone and no one knew his location. Rhodey was in the hospital, Pepper had wanted space that Tony easily gave if only just to have them return to what they were before the disastrous attempt at dating, he’d mostly avoided Vision since the pain of hearing his beautiful baby boy in someone who  _ wasn’t him  _ was too much to bear before he'd come to realize that Vision was also one of his, and he’d be damned if he put Underoos in anymore danger with the possibility that the HYDRA base wasn’t actually been abandoned.

He was alone, with no one else he could call (if he could wire something to do so with) to help him.

All he can do now, is lay still and hope for a miracle, the wind whispering in his ear from the doorway.

It's that last part that catches his attention a few seconds later, making his eyes pop back open as his ears strained to better listen.

_ The wind. _

_ “The wind is like an extra limb to me; if ever you have need of me, merely whisper my name to the wind and I shall do my best to get to you.” _ A voice murmured through his mind, low and smooth like the hum of a soothing tune.

There  _ was _ one more person,  _ one _ , who he could try to call. Someone who had been with him years ago, as a child dealing with Howard’s disdain and Maria’s growing drug addiction. Who had comforted him when neither Jarvis nor Maria could, and who had encouraged his passions just as they had and in a way Howard never would.

And it’s this thought that makes him remember what he'd forgotten two years ago: makes him remember wavy violet hair, wild and long, and a silver gaze tinted with lavender that always looked at him with warmth and affection, mischief hidden in their depth along with a deep sorrow and shadows he couldn’t always hide. It made him remember the one person who had only left him because war threatened his home, and he had had to be there to fight.

As a child, when he had still been shaken and terrified after Howard’s latest rage, a man with strange features had burst into his hiding spot in a flurry of fire and wind, wild and cursing up a storm. He had terrified Tony at first, because Howard was usually cursing towards him whenever he was angry enough in a way that always instantly put him on edge and anticipating violence- instead of merely ignoring him, but the male had quickly seen that fear and had instantly quieted before gently trying to calm him;  _ apologizing _ for scaring him and asking his name after giving his.

In just a few moments, a complete stranger had shown Tony more love and care than his own father had ever done, placating his fear and calming him down while wiping away his tears with a gentleness that rivaled his dear Jarvis.

And then, he’d tried to relax Tony further by asking if he wanted to see a trick and showing him an amazing skill with fire, manipulating it with ease and calming Tony  further by never appearing angry or even mildly put out at every question Tony had shot at him once he’d forgotten his fear in favor of wonder and even answering them all to the best of his ability. And he’d quickly caught on to the fact that Tony wasn’t like other children, even changing his way of speaking and treating Tony like an equal instead of a scared child and giving a more in-depth explanation of how his power worked. It had been one of the best days Tony had ever had besides that time Howard had gone on a week long trip and Maria, Ana, and Jarvis had spent that whole time making sure he’d had the time of his life.

After that, his new friend had had to leave for a while, but had told him he would come whenever Tony needed him if he just called to him through the wind. 

And he had held true to his word, coming whenever Tony called him, usually after another bout of Howard’s rage that neither Maria nor Jarvis could calm him from. Soon, his friend had started bringing him souvenirs to help him; like a strangely shaped stone that glowed and warmed whenever he felt scared or anxious. He still had it, hidden in his workshop. It had helped him in numerous occasions, especially where he had to put on a mask when in public next to Howard. Sadly he hadn’t taken it with him to Afghanistan; it had been a sorely needed comfort that he had nearly clung to when he came back, holding it when he could and even keeping it on his person in a safe place when he had to be away.

The man had paid attention to him, had praised him whenever he showed him his inventions, and had even tried to teach him about the world he’d come from when Tony had questioned what he was. He’d become Tony’s  _ friend. _

And he’d  _ adored _ him almost as much as Jarvis, simply because he had done what he could to help Tony, his gifts usually a form of comfort for when he couldn’t be there to give it instead. And whenever Tony had trouble understanding something, the male had done his best to explain in a way that would help him understand better and had never looked down on him for not understanding something right off the bat like Howard had, the rare times he'd taught Tony anything. And after thinking it through, Tony had kept his existence a complete secret, guarded even more closely than the secrets of his Arc Reactor and the Iron Man suits, since all the way back in his youth to all but Jarvis, who had been aware if only because of the occasional glimpse he would get of the male, and Maria, who had never told a soul even doped out of her mind. No one else knew even a hint of his existence; not Howard, Not Obadiah, not even Rhodey or Pepper. Because the man had been his, and he hadn’t wanted to put him in danger on the off chance someone would try to hurt him. Looking back on it now, that had been the smartest decision he’d ever made. People like Ross could  _ never _ be allowed to get near, let alone  _ touch _ , one of his dearest friends.

By the time he went to MIT, his friend had spent seven years around Tony, popping in and out frequently because he had responsibilities to his own home and he couldn't spend all his time with Tony despite wanting to. Tony understood, even if he wasn’t happy about it. But his friend had always brought him gifts if he was away too long, marveling at Tony’s next invention and helping however he could if Tony had problems with something.

But before he’d left for MIT, his friend had popped in looking distraught and disheveled, telling him he wouldn’t be able to continue popping in as he was, because war had come for his home and he was needed on the frontlines. That it was his fault the battle had hit a head and that he needed to take responsibility before it hurt the innocent people around him. Coming to visit would be impossible for a while until he could calm things down to a level that he wouldn’t be needed for.

While terrified for his friend and not wanting to see him leave for who knew how long, Tony had understood, but had made him promise to come back alive and to come back if he needed a safe place; he would not lose his friend, even if he had to build a way to get to him in the end. With that, his friend had given him a tired smile and had stayed for a few minutes to catch up before he had to leave, crushing Tony in an almost desperate hug before disappearing back to his home.

And then, Tony had left to college and had gone through several new experiences; Tiberius Stone, teachers and students alike insulted by his younger age mixed with his intelligence, and gaining a new friend near his own age.

Rhodey had been a balm to the open wound in his heart from his friend’s forced departure, and it had only grown to be more so when Rhodey turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to him besides Jarvis and his friend.

But then Howard and Maria Stark died in a car crash ( _ But oh, now he knew the truth and  _ **_oh_ ** _ how it  _ **_hurt_ ** ), and Tony shut down, locking himself away and calling his friend in desperation; completely forgetting about what he’d told Tony before he left as Tony drowned himself in alcohol.

By the time Rhodey had managed to call Jarvis and get the door open, Tony had been passed out while believing his friend had  _ abandoned  _ him.

And he’d spent  _ days _ feeling angry and hurt about that betrayal, drunk off his ass and spouting sharp barbs about his friend whenever Jarvis mentioned him until the poor man had stopped attempting to reason with him and just attempted to keep him from killing himself.

But, it was two weeks afterwards that the memory crashed into Tony’s head in a rare moment of sobriety, stunning him and causing him to break down once he realized what he’d done. Yes, he had been  _ hurting _ , but his friend had never,  _ never _ , betrayed him nor given him a reason to doubt or mistrust him. And he’d spent  _ days  _ cursing him and refusing to say his name or even speak about him, and all the while his friend could have been dying or already dead trying to defend his  _ home. _

He’d called Jarvis moments later to apologize, the man coming directly to him after the call to stay with him along with Rhodey as he sobbed in renewed grief and guilt. 

After that, he’d done all he could to toughen his spine and keep his emotions in check, building up a repertoire of masks upon masks that only Jarvis could fully see through before dying of illness just before Tony graduated MIT at 17. Then he was left with just Rhodey and Obadiah as a support system, and one had turned out to be a backstabbing bastard in the end.

Afghanistan had nearly broken him, a month comprised of torture when he constantly refused to build the jericho with a battery strapped to his chest the only thing keeping him alive even as it constantly shocked him when water dropped onto it during sessions. He’d been forced to called for his friend again when it became too much, hoping but expecting nothing would come of it.

In the end, his expectation had been proven correct and it had been Yinsen who had forced his determination and his brain back to working in order to get them out after being confronted with the sight of  _ his weapons _ in the hands of terrorists. And he had risen from the ashes like a phoenix, taking out the bastards who had thought he’d be stupid enough to actually make them weapons. But Yinsen had never intended to follow him out of that cave, and Tony had left Afghanistan with the man’s soul on his back and the building fear that his friend was dead. Being found by Rhodey soon after was the only thing that had left him calm enough to face Obadiah’s betrayal later that ended with his reveal to the world.

During the palladium poisoning, he’d tried again after Pepper and Rhodey had begun to withdraw from him due to his increasingly erratic behaviour and the loss of hope in the inability to find a replacement for the metal poisoning him. That had soon led to his recklessness increasing when it also failed, leading to the birthday incident that had been encouraged by Romanoff and ended with Rhodey flying off with what would later become War Machine. And then, he’d been given a silver lining with a dosage of a threat and confinement in his own home. So, he’d synthesized a new element and had once again risen from his own ashes to crash the Expo and save the people caught in the crossfire of Vanko’s grudge against him, the fear he’d held in the depths of his heart and mind growing each time his call laid unanswered by a friend he didn’t even know  was alive or not. 

But, for a while, his life seemed to be looking up after that, even with that slap-to-the-face assessment. He had cheated death again, Pepper had accepted a dating proposal, and Rhodey was now able to fight with him and in solo missions in a suit of armor that would keep him safe. Pepper was the new CEO of Stark Industries while Tony headed the R & D and continued doing what he loved best; designing and creating technological advancements for a brilliant future

But then Loki had brought the invasion.

Later, he would actually review what he’d seen and put together the signs of a bigger picture behind Loki’s actions, but he’d been too preoccupied during everything to really pay attention to the discrepancies. But he’d only attempted to call twice during that entire fiasco; once when he’d almost shouted his friend’s name instead of Jarvis during Loki’s little defenestration, and again when he’d actually tried to call for him as Jarvis had been dialing Pepper- praying  _ one _ of them would answer before he died by taking the nuke to space.

Of course, even space couldn’t force Tony to stop using weighted dice in his game against Death, dropping through the portal right before it closed and getting revived by Hulk’s roar after Jolly Green had caught him. And then he was left to deal with the fact that his friend was very likely dead, spending days afterwards mostly locked in his lab to deal with that and his new dose of PTSD with a heavy dose of drinking and Jarvis worrying in the background before his baby boy had called in the heavy guns; Rhodey had forced him to get up and eat and sleep, staying as long as he could and calling whenever he could, even recruiting Pepper to keep him from a relapse. Between them, he had slowly pushed away the crushing despair and fear and had thrown himself into the Avengers and a way to defend the world from another invasion. One he knew was coming, from what he’d seen through the portal before passing out. As it turns out, that was the worst mistake he could have ever made.

He hadn’t tried to call before or during Extremis, but it had hit him as a last resort as he struggled to stabilize Pepper, his frustration and fear hitting the point where he had thrown his coffee mug and had cried out for his friend in desperation.

And when it had actually  _ worked _ , when his friend had stumbled from thin air to crash into a table to his right- injured but  _ alive _ , Tony had been unable to do anything but pull him into a desperate hug, nearly sobbing with relief that his fear had been  _ wrong _ ; that his friend was still surviving, still cheating death  _ just like him _ , still  _ fighting, _ just like he was. His friend had clung to him just as tightly, though he was careful to keep his higher strength in control as he sagged in Tony’s arms, speaking softly in his ear to soothe him even as his friend had to lean against him to keep from collapsing from his wounds. And after they had calmed down, his friend had instantly gotten to work, asking what he needed and then quickly delving in to understand just what he was trying to help with. By the time they’d figured out a solution, Tony had weaseled out a few details bit by bit of what was going on in his friend’s world. And then Jarvis had offered a little quip that his friend had bantered back, and then it had devolved into ten whole minutes of amusement watching them banter back and forth.

As it turned out, the war had become a massacre, his friend doing everything he could to keep innocent people from dying while being forced to kill his enemies when they wouldn’t  _ stop _ as the war spread, infecting the world as his friend continued to fight. Bit by bit, disaster was taking over, making the war that much more dangerous for the male and increasing Tony’s worry; but he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince his friend to stay, his friend holding an immense amount of responsibility towards what had begun the war in the first place. He had to see the end of it, even if it meant being put in danger in the process.

And, sure enough, after he’d given the chemical solution a mere drop of his blood to balance the fire in Extremis, he’d crushed Tony in one last hug, looking a hell of a lot better than when he’d arrived, and then had left to continue his fight, promising he would return, no matter what; especially to explain just how his blood was able to affect the formula like that instead of making it combust. That promise was the only thing that kept Tony from even attempting to change his mind, no matter how much it gnawed at him to at least try.

And then, he’d had to watch as his own fears came back to bite him in the ass.

Ultron happened, and his baby boy had been torn apart, pulling himself together just enough to keep the homicidal robot from getting the nuclear codes.

And during it all, through the vision and Jarvis’ reinvention into Vision and the final battle, Tony spoke his friend’s name only once, just once, before going to confront Ultron. He didn’t expect to be answered, but he knew his friend would hear him, and that was enough. And after, once Ultron had been defeated and Rogers had added Maximoff to the team, he had stepped back and tried to focus on SI and his split with Pepper due to his inability to give Iron Man up and her inability to deal with the danger Iron Man constantly dealt with; now with a double helping of anxiety and PTSD and with his fear of what he’d seen through the portal renewed and grown. He’d barely picked himself up after that, the loss of Jarvis hitting him hard, an excruciating pain whenever he had to hear that same voice form Vision even though he knew it wasn’t his Javis, but still he managed, activating FRIDAY and focusing on his armor instead to keep himself from breaking down from the fear and the pain.

He knew he had a lot to do, since the earth needed to be ready for what was out there, even if he had to force the issue to the people who weren’t  _ listening _ . They needed to be ready, otherwise they wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell.

29 years after his friend had had to leave had been the magic number to have him return, even though he couldn’t stay. That was enough to disperse most of his fear and give him hope that the male would make it, no matter what. Even if his appearance had been painful and worrying to see, Tony had faith his friend would survive.

3 more years passed, things getting worse and worse, until it had all hit a head with the Accords and Rogers’ refusal to allow oversight and responsibility, not to mention his old 40’s buddy coming back from the dead and increasing his pigheaded aversion against compromise.

And now, here he was,dying in the very thing he had created to help him survive, because he had trust Captain America to be who his legend had said was; a paragon of justice and  _ truth _ .

_ How fucking ironic _ .

A part of him wanted to give up, to just fade away as the snow closed in to bury his corpse. But his friend’s voice kept echoing in his mind, a sweet voice compared to what he’d had to deal with for so many years. It was one of the only things still making him fight, the other being his remaining friends and team. What would happened to Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy if he died? They would be sad, he knew, as proven by how angry they’d been after the palladium, and Rhodey still needed leg braces; because he’d be  _ damned _ if his best friend- no, his  _ brother _ , was confined to a  _ chair _ .

And Vision, Vision would have to deal with  _ Ross _ wanting to get his grubby hands on him, and Rhodey and Pepper wouldn’t be able to fully protect him, along with Underoos. He needed to survive, because there were people who still needed him, and he needed to get the world prepared for what was coming. 

He couldn’t do that by giving up now.

_ “It’s one of the gifts they gave me. I’ll always be able to hear you if you speak my name, even worlds apart. ” _

_ “I’ve always heard you, Anthony.  _ **_Always._ ** _ I had no choice but to stay away, because you would have been in danger had I come when I was too deep inside the war. It pained me to do that, but I had no choice. I had to keep them away from you.” _

_ “One way, or another, I will return to you. I swear it, even if I have to tear apart the very cosmos to return to your side.” _

Closing his eyes and letting that voice wash over him, Tony called the image of his friend to the front of his mind, parting his lips to call out his name right before he passed out from his injuries..

What he would later come to see, was that his friend wouldn’t be alone when he came; that he would bring along a friend of his own for the ride.

“Katashi..Yasei..”


	2. A Dragon's Return (Recalling Pain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A call answered, a bond renewed, and a dark secret found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, *Stands* I salute you, Stan Lee, for giving the gift of your creations to the world. I'll never forget that you made me a better person through your characters. May your legacy live on.  
> *Collapses into chair* Shit, I am late as all hell for that. I didn't know he was gone until two days later. Spent the next two bawling like a baby. I was a horrible kid until I saw Iron Man.
> 
> With that said, I AM SO FREAKING SORRY FOR THE WAIT  
> I procrastinated, and I am deeply sorry for that.  
> BUT, FINALLY, with the help of my WONDERFUL Beta, BellaSair92, I give you
> 
> CHAPTER 2
> 
> She's already kicking my butt to make me write chp 3. Hopefully, it gets done faster than this one.  
> Enjoy!

*

 

A smooth hand tentatively gliding along his face is what wakes him some time later, his vision blurred as he stubbornly forced his eyes to open, the chill  and snow creeping along his body revealing that he hadn’t been moved since he’d passed out; not knowing if he was in safe hands or if some enemy- possibly even HYDRA, had found him, his brain not catching the fact that an enemy wouldn't be _gentle_ as he fought viciously against the desire for sleep to find out what was going on. It takes more effort than it should to keep his eyes from closing again, but his attention instantly catches on the _violet_ _river_ _rippling above him_ -

His lips trembled from the cold as his breath hitches in realization, causing his throat to ache even as a weight loosens from his chest; his eyes never leaving that comforting, familiar sight.

He doesn’t know if he says anything, his throat constricting and burning as he tried to breath, pain lacing through his chest at the action, and he hears a broken moan that he vaguely realizes comes from him. A part of his clouded mind wonders how extensive his injuries are, the severe cold having numbed most of his body to an alarming degree, though he can’t focus too much on that fact at the moment. His lips moved as he attempted to tell his friend about the distress signal button on his wrist, not knowing if the words escape through the ringing in his ears.

Attention shifting to the hand that presses against his cheek, a stuttering sob scrapes against his shattered chest as blessed warmth slowly begins to seep through the rest of his body, the ringing fading to allow Katashi’s voice to reach his ears and echo in his mind.

_“It is alright now, Anthony, We have you.”_

Later, he’ll blame the bloodloss for not catching that, his mind too fuzzy to properly notice that the hands pulling his suit away are too much for merely one person. Coupled with the one caressing his cheek and gently brushing along the scrapes gainst his skin, there are _three_ hands currently moving along his suit, one going to his wrist and searching for a few moments before pressing down, and two others carefully peeling the bottom of his suit off, leaving his chest piece on. Carefully, Katashi’s hands remove his helmet, placing something soft under his head as warmth began to surround him.

It’s that warmth that starts to drag him back under, a ragged sigh slipping from his split lip as his body relaxed. He can feel Katashi’s hand sliding through his hair, adding to the comfort he felt even with all his injuries. Another hand settles on his calf, too far for Katashi to reach without stretching, but Tony can’t piece together facts at the moment, only feeling safe in the hands of one of his oldest friends.

A strange tingle suddenly began to spread across his chest, waking him slightly, though not for long as it dulled to an even deeper warmth, his breath coming just a little easier as he finally faded; the feeling of lips against his forehead the last thing to register before darkness takes over and he’s tossed into the dark void of sleep.

 

**

Hours later, Tony wakes up in a hospital bed, his chest feeling like hammered shit and the fun morphine flowing through his IV. It’s a bit hard to bring his thoughts into focus through the drugs, but somehow he manages to think passed the fuzz and distant pain, his head slowly lulling to the side to survey his room. There’s a chair next to his bed, angled towards him, and his heart monitor is beeping a steady rhythm; two things he catalogues but ignores in favor of processing his memory and how he’d managed to get himself in the hospital this time.

It’s cruel, the way it all comes flooding back; bashing against his skull like a cruel game of Whack-A-Tony with each connecting puzzle piece: The video, _a hand around his mother’s throat_ / **_Did you know/_ ** _So was I_ , Rogers above him, _the shield coming down over and over and_ **_over_ ** , the _cold_ , a river of _violet-_

Realization comes crashing through instantly, shattering the neverending repeat of haunting images as his body tries to jerk upwards, his breath coming slightly faster from the pain and an almost _vicious_ need to _see_ if was true-

A weight pushing down against his shoulder easily forces him back down, but it’s the _voice_ that makes him _stay_ down and calms the rising panic almost instantly.

“Do not move so carelessly. You are not yet fully healed, Anthony, and I find distress in watching you bleed.” The voice of his friend he hadn’t heard in 3 long years _glides_ into his ears and through his brain, a balm to his shattered heart even more so than the morphine.

A breathless laugh escapes, combining with an almost broken sob that drags raggedly against the back of his throat, his body relaxing against the bed as his eyes move to the hand still resting against his shoulder. He can still see the silver-hued skin instead of pink or milky white between the black fabric of fingerless gloves, so alien and yet familiar all the same despite obviously not being human, his hand shifting to clutch that single grounding touch as Tony let his eyes move upwards with a heady sense of relief warming his chest.

It doesn’t take long for his eyes to connect the hand to an arm, and that arm to a shoulder and neck. His body sags more against the sheets the more he sees, and he’s almost completely boneless when his eyes meet only one lavender-tinted silver.

“.. _You came.._ ” His voice is a ragged whisper, full of almost painful relief and joy, his friend smiling softly down a him.

Staring at him now, Tony takes in his features, so _achingly_ familiar and almost completely unchanged _,_ and still in the outfit the male had worn when he’d shown up after Killian and Extremis, so different from 32 years before he’d left the first time. The top was still a deep black, with a high collar that fit snugly around Katashi’s throat and no sleeves, the bottom stopping mid-rib and trimmed in burnt orange. There’s a skirt- he’d called it a wrap the first time he’d been asked but Tony will always think of it as a _skirt_ \- of lilac-colored fur around his hips, held over pants the same color as the top tucked into knee-high boots with a black clasp around the knees connected to turquoise-colored gems half the size of his palm and the rest a deep purple that verges on blue from the start of his shin to the bottom of his boots. From the second joint in his fingers all the way to above his biceps, black skin-tight gloves with orange trim rested over his skin, and a purple sash criss-crossed over his chest and around his hips over the skirt. It was an almost feminine outfit, though still slightly intimidating, since it highlighted muscles packed into lithe skin framed by black cloth. He didn’t know the material, but it was softer than anything he knew and five times as durable, something he wanted to tinker with to see if he could replicate it.

Most of his hair had been gathered into a high ponytail tied by another purple sash, though it still tumbled down and dragged slightly on the floor, Katashi having never cut his hair in all the time Tony had known him. A minor portion, however, remained loose to surround his face, tumbling over his right eye in a wild mess and along the left side of his face in an elegant mess and stopping in the middle of his chest. Elongated and pointed ears peaked out of the violet waves, making his friend appear like an elf from some fantasy movie with an even stranger fashion sense, though his friend had stated clearly that he was not an elf when Tony had asked him what he was years ago.

“You came.” He repeated, his voice stronger now that he knew it wasn't just a dream, resisting the urge to smile like an idiot as excitement and joy grew in his chest. His grip tightened slightly, clutching Katashi’s hand as if he'd disappear any moment.

Katashi gave a soft smile as he nodded, his lips parting to respond until another voice, smooth and vaguely amused, beat him to it; Tony’s gaze quickly moving towards the direction it had come from only to widen at what met his eyes.

“ _We_ came. I do hope you've better awareness when in good health, Anthony Stark. It is rather unsettling that you did not see me when you turned your head a mere second before.” The newcomer stated, purple-hued lips pulling into a half smile as his jaw fell in shock.

Because, standing in front of him, was an almost exact copy of Katashi with the same hue in hair and skin and lithe but firm muscle; though; obviously, a little more _feminine_. Staring at the stranger, he was stupefied to find she had almost every bit of Katashi’s look down, save for a more curvaceous figure, a bow holding her hair up instead of a simple tie, and being an inch shorter. She even had the exact same outfit!

“...Ok..Ok, time to backtrack. This is an exciting turn of events. You’re a _twin_?!” He exclaimed.

Katashi laughed, settling on the bed next to him with a smile as his hand moved to hold Tony’s, his thumb absentmindedly caressing the back of it. “Not exactly. I will tell you more thoroughly later, when you are not on strange but strong medications, but the simple explanation is that she is me. She is my parallel, born in a world like mine but with a few key differences, such as gender difference.”

He hadn’t made it hard to connect the dots, even with all the morphine in his system, and Tony’s eyes went wide with glee and shock mere seconds after his answer, an almost manic grin spreading across his lips. “Are you telling me she’s from a different dimension? Alternate reality and Multiverse and everything?! How are you here then? You two can actually exist in the same room!? How many laws of Physics are you breaking? I need to scan you when I get back to my lab- Oh! Can she do that trick you do with fire?!” He prattled erratically, his mouth running a mile a minute and not even waiting for Katashi to answer as ideas and theories flooded his mind and chased away the darker thoughts for now, his excitement taking over at the prospect of _science!_ His manic grin was only growing wider across his face, pulling slightly at the cuts and making him look like a slightly demented kid in a candy store. “Ok! We’re playing in the lab when I get out of here! I need to scan you and maybe make something blow up!” He declared, holding up Katashi’s hand as if in victory, making both his friend and his friend's female double laugh.

“My, what energy.” She commented, smirking softly as his attention snapped to her. Stepping closer, the woman ran a hand through Katashi’s hair fondly before bending her arm across her abdomen and bowing politely to Tony’s bedridden form. “Well met, Anthony Stark. Katashi has told me much of you, though I see he was remiss in telling you of me.” She teased, smirking as Katashi stuck his tongue out at her. “I am Kanashi Yasei. It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh, as opposed to the restrictions of mere tales from your youth.”

Staring at her in surprise, Tony turned to Katashi and blinked stupidly. “...Is...is she a posher version of you? Because I would damn sure remember you doing a bow or talking like a fantasy version of King Arthur and his Knights.” He asked, sounding vaguely amused and irritated.

Laughter met his statement, Kanashi moving closer to Katashi’s side with a wide grin while the male huffed in amusement at Tony’s side.

“No. He is able to act, as you said, ‘posh’ whenever he so wishes, though he has far more skill in bowing like a royal then I. I was merely being polite, as I would hate to have the one Katashi holds so dear harbor any dislike towards me. Would you rather I leer at you?” She hummed, placing an elbow on Katashi’s shoulder and watching him with an amused gaze. A fang peeked from her lip as she smirked. “I’m absolutely certain you would be used to such a thing, what with your loveliness even in such a state.”

Tony blinked, then blinked again before his eyes went wide, turning to Katashi in shock.

“Babe, your twin is hitting on me, and I am so conflicted about what to do now.” He started slowly, his lips twitching slightly before spreading into a mild grin as Katashi gave an amused snort. “Half of me says ‘hell yeah’ because, hell, have you seen the two of you? But the other half is scared she’ll snap me like a twig, because, I’m still injured and, _hell,_ _have you seen the two of you?_ ” His voice dipped into a mock-whisper as he gave an over-exaggerated look of fear that was ruined by the humor and amusement in his eyes, unknowingly making him appear far younger, his eyes shining with glee and amusement and a mischievous grin taking over his lips. “And babe, if you're anything like him, I doubt you could cause more than minor irritation.” He stated, pointing with his thumb at Katashi, who scowled lightheartedly at him with amusement shining in his gaze. “I have to fear for my remaining quantity of sanity more around him than I do anywhere else.”

“You were already half-mad as a child. I merely encouraged it to grow.” Katashi stated promptly, flicking his finger against Tony’s forehead teasingly. “I doubt you have any sanity left at all, much less my presence counting as a danger to it. ”

That only made Tony grin again, swatting Katashi’s hand away lightly with a soft laugh. “My Rhodey-Bear managed to find a bit of sanity and staple it back into my head. Took him years, but at least I'm less inclined to blow up abandoned factories when I'm bored nowadays.”

“Such a tale would be amusing, to hear how he managed such a feat.” His friend grinned mischievously, leaning closer. “But we can always find a more entertaining pastime, _darling_ , if explosive demolition has become so _boring.~”_

It was a bit startling, to hear his friend’s voice go from pleasant- like a lilting musical note, to down right _seductive and fuckable_ , but he hid his reaction behind a slight cough, attempting to clear his suddenly-too-tight throat. Once he was sure he wouldn’t blurt out the first thing on his mind, he flashed a grin.

“Sweetheart, a tumble with either of you in the sheets is more than I can handle right now. As it stands, you'd be left doing most of the work, and I'm not fond of not giving my best in bed.” He leered, flicking a stray hair in Katashi’s face away teasingly.

It worked like a charm, Katashi giving a soft laugh as Kanashi moved to sit next to him instead of merely leaning against his friend’s shoulder. Tony relaxed against his pillows, his mood turning from teasing to somber as his thoughts returned to the reasons on just _why_ he was in the hospital in the first place.

It wasn’t as bad this time, now that he knew his call for help had been answered, though the memories still haunted him and ate at his shredded heart. That he had one of his eldest friends back was the only thing actually keeping him together besides what he needed to get done. He loved Rhodey, there was no doubt; the man had been through hell and back with him, had supported and stabilized him ever since MIT. Hell, Rhodey was his brother in all but blood, the only one besides Pepper and Happy that he could actually trust to have his back.

But Katashi had been just as important to him, despite only really knowing him for seven years. For him though, that had been more than enough, since he had also known _about_ him for thirty-two. And Katashi had been there for him on the darkest days of his childhood, always trying to make him smile. He'd only left because he’d had no choice. Tony couldn't fault him for fighting for his family; not when he would do the absolute same for the family he'd made.

“..How long have I been out, Katashi?” He asked grimly, knowing he had a hell of a lot of work to do now that he was awake; he needed to work on the Accords, get Ross out, rebuild the Avengers, and a whole slew of other worries and problems to deal with. He’d already started with Ross, hacking the Raft with Friday's help and gaining every dirty little secret the Thunderbolt hid in his shiny little fortress. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but he knew for a fact that those files were still in his database under heavy incryptions behind a nasty firewall. I mean, really; allowing one of _the best_ **hackers** into the Raft when he was known for going after people who hurt or threatened those he cared about? Yeah, Ross had hit the point of idiocy in thinking Tony had only come for Rogers’ location. The General was a danger to Vision and the Spider Kid, not to mention any other enhanced who signed the Accords, and even Rhodey and Pepper would be in danger if his focus turned to them. He couldn't allow Ross to turn a document for the accountability and responsibility of enhanced beings into a cage that would turn them into either experiments or weapons. Ross couldn’t be allowed to have free reign to push his agenda through the Accords using the public's fear of Rogers and his team, not when it would only make things worse.

But he needed to focus, right now, on what had gone on while he'd been unconscious and just how many days it had been. He'd need to wait until Pepper came by for the more detailed version, but Katashi and Kakashi could give him at least the bare bones, since he'd never known Katashi not to keep an eye on his surroundings along with important information, and the male had hinted that his female counterpart was extremely similar to him.

At his question, a complicated look crossed Katashi’s face, his friend shifting and pulling their joint hands into his lap. Kanashi settled against his side, watching Tony with a steady gaze, an unreadable look in her eye. An unsettling feeling settled in his chest, making him wary as Katashi answered him.

“You have been unconscious for a week, and were required to go through intense surgery when you were first brought in and...a-and flatlined twice upon the medical table.” Katashi swallowed thickly, his grip tightening on Tony’s hand, while his gaze stayed on Tony’s face. “When we first arrived, I feared we were too late. You suffered severe hemorrhaging, and had two severely broken ribs, one of which pierced your lungs, along with several bruises and cracked ribs. You also had a broken tibia and fibula in your right leg, along with a hairline fracture along both of your femurs and a crack to your right ulna with severe bruising on your radius. You suffered several concussions that bordered severe along with a crack in the left side and center of your skull. There were several places along your body that were bleeding, both outward and inwardly, and your eye socket had a hairline crack along the left side. Three of your fingers were also broken with two having hairline fractures and one shattered along with a double fracture in your left wrist.” Katashi took a deep breath, his hands shaking around Tony’s, while Tony was staring at him with numb horror, his eyes wide. From all the injuries Katashi was listing, Tony could feel only half of them, his hands aching just a bit and his chest not hurting as much as he'd expected it to. His attention snapped back when his friend continued, “There were multiple lacerations and contusions along your body, the worst concentrated on your chest, some requiring several stitches and almost causing severe blood loss. Your fabricated sternum was shattered beyond repair and helped pierce your lungs along the primary bronchus and pleura diaphragm and severed a small canal to your heart along with a small nick to your aorta. There were also signs of hypothermia and frostbite in your limbs and along your face and signs of hypoglycemia. Had we not arrived and taken action so quickly, you would have either been severely disabled pending your rescue, or...” His grip around Tony’s hand was almost painfully tight now, his gaze roaming his face as two fingers pressed against the inside of Tony’s wrist to catch the pulse now beating strongly through his veins, obviously needing reassurance that he had made it in time. “..O-or perished in that forsaken tundra.”

For several minutes, all he could do was stare, swallowing thickly around the lump in his suddenly too-tight throat as his hand curled around Katashi’s wrist. “..H..How did I make it back alive, then?” He asked, controlling his breathing in order to keep from panicking. Panicking could come later, when he was in his workshop and could afford a moment of weakness outside of the public eye. Right now, he needed answers, and panicking would delay those answers. “How did I survive long enough to get here?”

“He said we were _nearly_ too late, Anthony Stark. As it is, we barely made it in time to mitigate the damage.” Kanashi stated gently, watching him with a sharp and knowing gaze that prickled along his skin in an almost uncomfortable way, mostly from how that gaze seemed to see more than Tony let others see. “You were there for more than thirty seven hours after we arrived along with an undisclosed time before that since we unable to move you without causing further damage, and your retrieval came at the hands of a strange being with red skin and a man named Everett Ross after you informed us of the distress signal button located on your wrist. Nineteen of those hours consisted of our efforts to fix most of your wounds while sharing warmth to keep the frostbite at bay. We had to leave you five minutes before they arrived to stay out of sight, and managed to slip onto the aircraft they commanded without much awareness.” Kanashi answered, placing her hand on Katashi’s shoulder while Tony watched, her words making him relax and grow nauseous simultaneously. He was beyond relieved that he’d actually managed to tell them about the distress button before passing out, no doubt about that, but now he had begun to realize something important; hence the nausea.

Katashi had come, likely expecting some trouble, but had been completely unprepared for the image of a Tony Stark slowly bleeding out from numerous wounds and dying with blood in his lungs; had very likely nearly gone into a panic at the fact that he didn’t know if he’d arrived too late or just in time, if what he remembered about the male still held true.

Taking another deep breath, he clutched his friend’s hand, suddenly understanding that Katashi would probably never forget that image; would probably forever picture numerous scenarios in which he was too late and had to watch his life fade, or Tony died instead without the other ever knowing because he hadn’t thought to call for him. He knew his friend well enough to know he’d be haunted by the fact that he could have been too late had he been a few moments slower. It churned his stomach and sat heavy in his chest, since he would never have wanted to place that burden on any of his friends, least of all Katashi.

Tugging at Katashi’s hand, Tony placed it over his heart, watching the other as the male sagged against him, his head resting against Tony’s shoulder. To think, he had spent _years_ trying to fit in with a team who had been toxic from the very beginning when he’d been given the perfect example of _actual_ care in childhood by the very person who had saved his life just a week ago, and later even further by his dear Platypus. It was startling, to think he'd become so stupid in the years leading up to Iron Man, and then afterwards; letting Fury and Natashalie get to and manipulate him using his own insecurities without him catching on until he'd already been burned. It was definitely a wake-up call.

After a moment, he turned his attention back to Kanashi while curling an arm around Katashi’s waist, gaining a small nod from her as she continued the explanation.

“Katashi and I hold a gift for magic; our kind of magic, specifically, and not the type you’ve already encountered.” She clarified before he could even grimace. “Our magic may be similar, but it is by no means the same. For one, our magic does not allow us to tamper with the unwilling mind. It also has specific uses and consequences when certain spells are used. Of the spells we know, one in particular allows what you would call a ‘ **Transfer** ’ when dealing with healing the wounds of another. It is a type of healing spell, but it does not erase the damage like other spells. Merely _moves_ it. Had we used any other, you would not have been stable enough to move when your rescue came.”

“...Where did you move the wounds to?” He asked cautiously, a heavy sense of apprehension rising as he took notice of how Katashi tensed slightly at his question, while Kanashi tilted her head and regarded him with an unreadable gaze. She kept quiet for a moment, glancing at her male counterpart before answering, her voice soft and calm while Katashi only tensed further.

“The **Transfer** allows only one place of which the wounds may go. Of the entirety of your wounds, ⅔ of them were taken. I hold a third  of them, and Katashi holds the other third. Your wounds were divided equally among we three, so that the damage you suffered could be lowered to a manageable level for all. Had we not, you would have died in the tundra with us forced to watch by your side.” The last part was stated pointedly, a soothing note in her voice that made it obvious to him that she was attempting to keep from causing him distress at her answer.

But nothing could keep his mind off the fact that they had taken his _injuries_ ; broken bones and all. Had actually gone an extra mile to make sure he _survived_ by doing what they could to heal as many of his wounds as they could, even if it meant they had to hold them instead. To someone who had grown up with so few people who he cared for and who cared for him back, it both frightened and elated him to have someone go that far for him, since Rhodey had been the one who had usually done damn near close to it most of the time.

Though, in retrospect, he should have expected it from someone who had spent most of the time around him trying to help ever since they had met.

“How much is ⅔?” He asked, his voice slightly breathless as his hand tightened around Katashi’s before loosening when he recalled he’d had broken fingers in the tally of injuries Katashi had listed, a heaviness in his chest and his throat feeling too tight with barely suppressed emotion. _Fuck,_  he should have known someone so similar to his friend would be able to make him want to cry so easily; especially his friend himself. “And how are you hiding them?” Because he _damn sure_ would have _noticed_ if they were injured, no matter how doped up on morphine he was.

She didn’t miss a beat, nor did she hesitate to answer, watching him calmly. “The wounds I took became four cracked ribs, a mild fracture in my sternum and minor laceration to my pleura diaphragm where I managed to lessen the damage to your lungs and remove or piece back together a fraction of the shards of your artificial sternum, a mild contusion along the bone of my eye socket, a hairline fracture in my ulna, minor contusions along my fibula, mild lacerations along my chest along with minor contusions, a split lip, and a fractured wrist. Currently, I need only wait for my sternum, eye socket, and wrist to completely heal before I am back in full health. For Katashi, the spell provided him with a broken tibia, a bruised ulna and radius, a minorly shattered ring finger and hairline fractures along his other two, the rest of the damage I managed to take from your shattered sternum without completely fixing it due to a lack of materials to build you a functional and stable sternum, a mild laceration in his right lung along the primary bronchus- that I am quite certain caused most of your difficulty breathing, along with the severed canal to his heart that have both already repaired themselves, The majority of your head trauma and almost the entirety of the cracks in your skull, a small fracture to his eye socket, several contusions and small lacerations across his chest and spread sparsely along his body. As of now, he merely has a minor concussion, minor cracks in his sternum, a fracture in his ring finger, and a small abrasion on his lung to worry with.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “As for how we’ve managed to hide the damage, a simple illusion goes along way, especially when almost everyone is unaware we are even here.”

His body instantly tensed, years of hiding Katashi’s existence rearing its head and catching the last part quickly, even as  a part of his mind froze in shock and horror at her answer. “Who knows?” He asked, fear forming in the pit of his stomach at the possible outcomes of Katashi’s existence being exposed. There was no doubt his friend was strong, but that didn’t stop Tony from worrying.

“At the moment, merely one, though I have my suspicions about another. I believe the first introduced herself as Friday. The second is the strange being I’ve heard be called ‘Vision’ on numerous occasions when I check the perimeter, whom glanced towards our location when he and Mr. Ross arrived to retrieve you and again when we boarded the aircraft behind an illusion. I do not yet know if he truly saw us, or if it was merely his senses being triggered by the strange object embedded in his forehead feeling my presence, but I would add him among the list as a precaution.” She explained, tapping her chin in contemplation as his muscles slowly loosened. Friday wouldn’t alert someone of their existence unless he was in danger, and Vision he could trust to keep it to himself to learn more instead of instantly telling anyone. He didn’t notice the odd looks crossing Katashi’s face at the mention of Vision, nor did he see the same happen to Kanashi a moment later.

“Your creation is quite protective of you, Anthony.” Katashi continued, smiling softly. “We were forced to release the illusion while you were resting lest she call your rather impressive security when her sensors picked up the faintest trace of our presence. She has been most anxious to speak with you.” He gestured to the bedside table, where Tony could see a modified StarkPhone had been placed next to one of his many tablets.

A buzz of warmth went through him, Tony sitting up with Katashi’s careful help. Reaching over, he pressed the call button and held it to his ear, a smile on his face. “Should I be worried about you being overprotective, Sweetpea?”

It only took a second for the phone to connect to her servers, since it was one of his personal phones and had been modified to fit a multitude of purposes, the sensors clicking in recognition of his voice patterns as Friday’s worried voice filled his ear a few seconds later.

“Boss! Updating medical files now. Do you need a suit sent to your location?” His baby’s worried voice was a thing of beauty as he reclined further against the sheets, smiling big as Kanashi and Katashi watched with amused smiles.

“Maybe send one over as a precaution, sweetpea. I need an update. What have I missed?”

“Stark Industries is running smoothly, though Ms. Potts had to put a few of the board in line when they became overzealous due to your hospital stay. Colonel Rhodes has been moved into the ICU in your current hospital residence under medical watch with Vision stationed outside his room, Spiderman is currently in Physics listening to a lecture, Ms. Potts is in a board meeting, and Mr. Hogan is at Stark Tower working. You were found in Siberia thirty-nine hours after you went offline, and thirty-seven hours after you sent out a distress signal, and have been unconscious for over a week and a half while your wounds were treated. Unfortunately, the damage to your sternum was too extensive, At this time, a temporary brace has been placed to keep your ribcage from collapsing, but a sturdier version needs to be fabricated soon...”

She trailed off, before continuing in a quieter tone, her voice sounding so _human_ that pride bloomed in his chest; even as his heart broke for how _scared_ his baby girl seemed. “Boss..There’s...There’s something else..” He could hear her voice _crack_ , as if holding back the need to cry even though he knew his baby girl couldn’t, though that fact didn’t stop his heart from breaking further.

A new thought made him pause, his lips turning downward in a worried frown and a chill climbing up his spine, Tony having felt something ominous in how she had trailed off. “...What aren’t you telling me, Sweetpea?” He asked softly, his heart pounding in his ear.

His attention snaps to the movement at his side, Katashi having slipped closer while Tony was distracted with Friday. His friend’s face stalled any words that might've formed, the solemn, _dark_ expression being one he’d never seen on Katashi’s face; Kanashi matching it at the male’s other side as she turned her gaze to her folded hands.

“Anthony…”Oh. _Oh,_ that wasn’t good. Katashi had _never_ sounded so pained, even after he’d arrived from a battlefield half-dead and half-blind from his own blood. “..Since we arrived to find you, we have attempted to keep up with any knowledge pertaining to you, especially things pertaining to your health. As such, we..We have come across something….something a woman named Helen Cho has noticed and noted.” Breathing deeply, Katashi ran a hand through Tony’s hair, a comforting gesture for the both of them. “..She discovered an anomaly in your organs, in that they have begun to slow down. It wasn’t initially noticed due to just how slow the regression is, but it has finally reached a point that Dr. Cho was able to pick up on it and find out the cause.” Slowly, his other hand moved to lightly- _oh so lightly, like a feather, as if he was afraid Tony would break from just the slightest nudge-_ press against the center of his chest; right where the Arc Reactor had been.

A sinking feeling settled in his chest, making his breath shorter as the pieces connected.

“..I need the Arc Reactor back, don’t I..?” He asked quietly, his voice almost too low to hear even with their enhanced hearing as his hands began to tremble, his ears ringing and drowning out any answer they gave. His vision was starting to go hazy, pressure building against his lungs, and he could vaguely hear Friday speaking; her voice a distorted buzz in his ear joined by Katashi a view moments later. Panic started to rise in his throat as his body locked up, his chest on fire as pain joined in a bright flare.

After Killian, after _Extremis_ , after _everything he’d gone through_ , he’d had the Arc Reactor removed because it presented itself as a liability and glaring weakness. He was more surprised that almost no one had gone for it in all the fights he’d participated in, though he could likely attribute that to the fact that it’s exact purpose was a closely-kept secret.

And now, _now_ the fact that it wasn’t in his chest, cutting down his lung capacity and causing frequent chest pain along with a constantly high temperature due to the energy output of the Arc and lack of proper insulation, was what was _killing him_.

Oh, he could hear his enemies laughing at the fucking _irony._

From scraps in a cave, to palladium poisoning and then discovering a new element, the Arc reactor had constantly caused him struggle; the decreased lung capacity and need for a new sternum supported that fact. The irony wasn’t lost on him either on how this directly opposed the circumstance of the palladium poisoning; as if there wasn’t enough irony in this situation.

Back then, it had been the Arc Reactor killing him. Now, its absence threatened his life.

A pressure on the back of his neck and around his wrist snapped his mind back into the present with a flinch, his lungs burning with the need for air as his chest heaves sporadically, causing his chest to constrict with more pain. The touch anchors him when he remembers who’s in the room with him, Tony slowly blinking the haze from his eyes to see Katashi leaning in his space, one hand holding his wrist with two fingers against the pulse point and the other out of sight behind him. Kanashi reaches for his other, gently grasping and pulling it to press against her chest with her lips moving to form words that are obvious from her movements as she coaxes him to breath. And slowly, bit by bit, he can feel the burn decrease, his throat feeling too raw and his eyes burning as air finally makes it to his lungs. His breath hitches slightly, and sound slowly comes back as his body leans forward for his head to rest on Katashi’s shoulder.

“..Good. You’re doing wonderful, Anthony. It’s going to be alright, I promise you. Just breathe, just like that.” His voice is calm, low and soothing like an old lullaby in his ear as a claw-tipped hand gently runs through his hair, massaging at his scalp with the utmost care that it almost makes him cry. “There you are. You’re doing so well. We are here Anthony, in any way you need us. You will not go through this alone, not anymore. I swear to you.” His voice stays low, murmuring praises and encouragements that hit deep at the part of him that had constantly craved it, his body sagging further against the male with a ragged sigh.

“..I’ve been told swearings’ bad.” He joked weakly, his voice weak and shaking slightly. Katashi huffed softly with amusement, though Tony could hear the hint of relief in it too as fingers continue carding through his hair.

“I have a reliable source that proclaims that is only true around children.” He quipped back, to which Kanashi snorted at but didn’t add to.

“Oh, then I’m good... You know, I have no idea what this is made of.” He said absentmindedly as his hand ran across a bit of the fabric of Kanashi’s shirt, his voice still just a bit weak. He paid no attention to the fact his hand was against her chest, most of his focus trying to identify the fibers that held no familiarity. It was softer than anything he’d ever felt- which was damn impressive considering who he was, yet felt tough; similar to a bullet vest, except it was too flexible and an entirely different material.

“I’d be surprised if you did. This wasn’t a common fabric even in our worlds.” Kanashi hummed, showing extraordinary patience in his actions when most women would have either smacked him silly or tried to charm him for a night in bed by now- the latter of which she had only been teasing him about earlier. She, however, merely pressed her fingers against the inside of his wrist, keeping focus on his pulse just like Katashi, and letting him try to figure out what kind of fabric her shirt was made from.

Katashi’s hand sliding through his hair brings his focus back towards the male, his shoulders slumping as clawed fingers massaged the back of his head in blissful ministrations. It didn’t help to keep him relaxed at Katashi’s next question, but it was heaven while it lasted.

“..Anthony, what has happened in my absence?” Katashi’s voice was soft, calm and poised with a lightness to his inquiry as he regarded Tony with a steady gaze. For all that the question is loaded, Katashi appears to have merely asked about the weather or how his day was.

But oh, Tony _knows_ his friend; he knows- by the barest hints in his facial expression and body language- that something _horrible_ has happened to his friend in their time apart, the barest tremble in his fingers that gives away the intense fear he’s hiding, the barely-there twitch of his nose and his ears that show he’s using Tony’s voice and scent to keep calm. Knows by the barely-there _pitch_ in his tone that says he’s beyond rage. Katashi is _enraged_ , angry at the events that marked their reunion, but his rage is so deep that he’s _calm_. And that’s a dangerous anger, very dangerous.

It’s dangerous because, the last time his friend had been this angry, Howard had been haunted with horrifying nightmares and small bouts of bad luck for _months_ after a bad day had ended with a broken arm and multiple cuts and bruises for Tony after Howard had drunken himself into a stupor, disappearing more often on his searches and generally ignoring Tony’s existence when he wasn’t home; even shying away from him almost _fearfully_ outside of the public eye and being short and blunt whenever he had to interact with him. Katashi had arrived a few hours after it had all happened, and had taken care of the bone and bandaged him up better than Jarvis had attempted to, since Howard- still drunk off his ass, had refused to allow him to go the hospital. Not to say that Jarvis hadn’t _tried_ , but they hadn’t had the supplies needed for fixing a few of his bad wounds and the bone until Katashi had arrived, bringing an entire kit that he’d left with Jarvis which he’d been able to use to set the bone, stabilize it, wrap it in support, and deal with the worst of his bleeding and bruises with a weird paste that tingled on contact (He still didn’t know what it had been made of).

He’d explained that one of his friend was a damn good doctor, like a mad scientist with biological chemicals without being clinically insane, who had created the paste during one of Katashi’s multiple training mishaps because he’d gotten tired of, to quote Katashi’s words from his friend, ‘a reckless idiot’s tendency to lift boulders as training instead of regular training weights like a goddamn sane creature with more than one brain cell to run bodily functions.’ That, and he’d been like Tony in his worst binges; forgoing food and sleep for extended experiments and extensive studies.

It had been one of the best times he could remember, with Katashi sharing stories of his friend and all the mishaps _he’d_ gotten into in his attempt of medical study, even if the male had had to leave the next day. Afterwards, Howard had mostly just ignored him, Tony soon leaving on his way to MIT; and nothing to that extent had happened afterwards whenever he and Howard had had to interact the times he actually came home for break.

Needless to say, Tony exerted _extreme_ caution with that voice.

He flinched slightly when slender fingers gently ghosted across his cheek, his eyes turning to Kanashi, who, unlike Katashi, watched him intensely. This caused him to swallow thickly, the hand she still held curling to grip hers tight while his other did the same with Katashi’s.

“...I..I don’t know..where to start..I-” Pulling in a sharp breath, Tony bowed his head to hide his face against Katashi’s shoulder. “..A lot’s happened...since last time…” His hands trembled in theirs. “..Katashi...I..I lost him...I lost Jarvis..” His voice comes out so small, so _broken_ , and a sob catches in his throat even as Katashi goes stone-still against him; Tony forcing the emotion back so that he won’t break down until he has it all in the open.

He needed to explain first, needed to tell Katashi everything. A part of him is afraid, afraid that his friend will see Roger’s side and leave Tony alone. Terrified that one of his remaining friends will turn on him because he’ll finally see how utterly _useless_ and pathetic Tony is. But, there’s also another part of him, a part that whispers about Katashi’s actions in the past; every touch and smile of affection, every encouragement and soothing word, every reluctant parting. And he can’t help but hope that the other part will be wrong, that the cynical voice in his head won’t actually turn out right again like so many times before. Katashi had gone tense above him, his grip tightening minutely but loosening before Tony could feel even a hint of discomfort. And Kanashi, though he’s only just met her, is already attempting to comfort him; her hand running along his back in gentle, soothing movements while the thumb of her other hand caresses his in a bid to offer comfort, even though she never met Jarvis and shouldn’t know what it means for Tony to have lost him.

So, he takes a leap, opens his mouth, and the words just fall; sometimes in jumbling messes as a sob hitches against his lips, and sometimes going off on a tangent in a half-angry/half-sad rant about the absolute bullshit that is his life. But, bit by bit, he explains everything. From the beginning in Afghanistan, to the Palladium, to Killian, to Sokovia and _Ultron_ , he explains it all.

He explains about Yinsen, about the man who’d kept the Merchant of Death alive even after his weapons had been used to kill the man’s family. Explains the man’s plan to die in those caves, something he’d kept from Tony until that fateful escape as they built and built, and how his last words forever ring in Tony’s head while he carries the soul of a good man who died from Tony’s ignorance and negligence and the remainder of his sins carved into his chest. He tells them of coming back, the press conference, shutting down the weapons division because he couldn’t stand the thought of anymore of his weapons getting into the wrong hands again. They stay quiet through it all, even as he details making the armor and the first flight. He almost stops when Katashi gives a truly _horrifying_ snarl when he tells them of Obadiah, of having the Arc reactor torn out his chest while the man he’d thought cared for him spoke only of how useful he was as a golden goose, and how he’d had to _crawl_ to his workshop for the very first reactor that Pepper had framed for him. But he keeps going, keeps talking about fighting Obadiah, overloading the giant Arc in the SI building and killing the man who would have been his murderer, had he not been a stubborn bastard who was hard to kill.

“Your tenacity is inspiring, despite the trouble it caused in your youth for your nanny and dear Edwin.” Katashi remarks, giving a small smile at the memory of the beloved butler even as the barely-there tremble in his hands increase.

Tony gives a wry grin, brittle and shaking though it might be. “I’ve perfected it to an art form, I swear. Poor old Jarvis wouldn’t be able to handle the little shit I’ve become.” It aches, to talk about either Jarvis, even with the passage of time with Edwin. The man had been a father to him in all but blood and name, and to lose his baby boy, his last connection to the memory of a man who had picked a little boy off the ground and given him the tools to silence the screaming need in his head to create, threatens to almost drown him. But, to not talk about him with the only other person alive who knew what had gone on in that house along with the old butler felt like a misstep to his memory. Because Katashi and Jarvis had been the ones to keep him _good_ when Maria couldn’t, and Howard _wouldn’t._

“Oh, I doubt that. He had a certain talent for keeping you in line even at your most brattish times.” Katashi’s reply is quick, dripping with dry humor and rueful amusement even as he scrutinizes Tony.

The reply causes him to laugh, just slightly so that he won’t undo the work already done on his ribs, with just a hint of nerves at how intensely Katashi is studying him.

It’s after that small reprieve that he starts on the Palladium incident, about how the metal had begun poisoning his blood and killing him just as much as removing the Arc would have (about how he’d _known_ it would but had planned to take care of it later). But it’s halfway between Natashilie’s infestation and building the particle accelerator that his voice stutters to a halt as a low _growl_ begins to rumble from Katashi’s chest, the male’s hand tightening almost painfully around his before quickly pulling away. He stayed incredibly still as, after a few moments of tense silence, Katashi’s head settled against his shoulder; the hair along his arm standing up from the beastial sound that he’d _never_ heard from his friend, not even at his angriest. Kanashi, after a few more seconds of silence, leans over and gently slides a hand through Tony’s hair, murmuring for him to continue with a dangerous glint in her eyes that lets him know she _won’t_ be forgetting anything about this. He doesn’t exactly know what she’ll do with it, but he can guess Katashi’s preference on what to do.

But, he shakes away the thoughts and focuses on telling them, continuing on to how he’d synthesized a brand new element. Neither Katashi nor Kanashi moved as he continued with the rest; about Vanko, the Expo, Rhodey’s suit going through the override, all the way to where he’d offered Pepper the CEO position and a date, and later on trying to get the new element to be named ‘Badassium’.

A flinch of surprise slips passed his control as Katashi snorted, his body becoming a little less tense at the small bout of humour, Kanashi even cracking a rueful smile beside them. Pouting at them for a few seconds, Tony had to crack a small grin after a few minutes of being faced with Kanashi’s knowing look and Katashi’s grin visible from the side. Even if it only lasted for a few moments, Tony took it to heart in that moment as he sombered to continue.

An hour passes as he regales them through the rest, from buying Pepper the two-story rabbit to Killian’s plans, and then to Pepper giving the creep a solid beatdown, filling in a bit more on what he’d told Katashi the last time in the aftermath. He then tells them about the info dump, and how no one had called him, despite how much he could have helped; even though he had just gotten done with heart surgery to remove the reactor. He almost breaks when he tells them about the agents he failed to save, about what the ones who did had to go through before he could get them out. Twelve hours late to the party, he managed to save over half of the agents, getting them into safe houses or into SI with new identities to keep them safe. And afterwards, Rogers and Romanoff getting off with barely a slap to the wrist, with the Black Widow revealing her inflated ego as she told the Senate they wouldn’t put her in prison because they _needed_ her. He tells them everything about her constant jabs towards _his_ ego, her narcissism and poor skills in psychological profiling. It’s enough to have Katashi shaking with anger, Kanashi silent beside them.

Then he talks about the small missions and time in between, where he slowly integrated the burned agents into SI and made sure that every agent he’d gotten out was as safe as he could get them. About his binges, what he’d managed to create and build and tinker. His R&D Developments and how the quirky little ducklings there all treat him like a moth duckling, which is kind of adorable, no matter how many times Rhodey teased him for it. The weight on his chest starts to lift the more he talks about them, about their amazing creations that go towards making life _better_ , about how _amazing_ the new generation is turning out to be. It’s almost enough to make him grin like an idiot.

_And then he starts on Ultron._

He starts by telling them about how the scepter had been kept on Earth while the Tesseract had been taken with Thor and Loki back to Asgard, and then later about having it stolen by Hydra.

He doesn’t expect Katashi’s reaction. Doesn’t even see it coming. Kanashi’s reaction is almost as jarring, though less intense.

The _moment_ he mentions Wanda, her powers in particular, Katashi jerks up; a look of horror in his gaze as his hands snap to grasp Tony’s face, obviously making an effort to keep his hold gentle even in his panic.

“Say that again.” His voice was sharp, shaking with _fear_ and _revulsion_ . He could feel Kanashi’s hand shaking against his, her face hidden from his view. Katashi’s hands nudge his cheeks gently but urgently to bring his focus back, shaking as well as the male stared at him with horror. “ _Repeat that, Anthony!”_

At first, Tony’s first instinct is to flinch away, panic surging forward at the sudden reaction and touch. It’s startling, seeing his friend _panicking_ , to see him actually _scared_. He’d only seen Katashi do it once before, when he had forgotten something important, but this…

This was actual _fear_ , not just worry. Katashi was _terrified_ , for _him_.

But it only takes a few seconds for him to calm down, his memories of the male showing him that Katashi would  _ never _ hurt him by choice. He knows that Katashi would sooner rather die than hurt him, intentionally or not.

And the thing is, Tony knows that Katashi doesn’t _just_ want his previous statement. He doesn’t want to know about what she made the others suffer through, doesn’t even seem to care. No, all of his focus is on Tony, wanting to know what she forced _Tony_ to see. What had _haunted_ Tony for so many sleepless nights afterwards after she had ramped his fear up several notches. It’s startling, being the sole focus of someone after so long being looked-over by all but his closest friends. But, Katashi had always been that way; showing Tony he cared through action rather than words more often than not.

It’s obvious, though, through the intensity in his eyes and how firmly he’s holding Tony’s head that he doesn’t intend to let this go; his face almost desperate as he waits for Tony to answer him.

Tony hesitates for a few more seconds before he caves, collapsing into Katashi’s hold and breathing easier when the male easily pulls him closer without a thought, his face buried against a firm chest as he starts.

It’s painful, because of course it is, and he spends most of the time just leaning against Katashi while Kanashi is still holding his hand to the side. But he forces the words through the lump in his throat, spilling everything in a way he’d only ever done with Rhodey, and he never imagined how _freeing_ it would be to do so. He’d thought the terror would increase if he gave word to his fears, no matter how stupid the notion seemed. But, the words keep coming, flowing easier the longer he talks.

Katashi is tense against him, so tense that he can almost see the veins in the male’s bicep when he shifted to rest the side of his face against Katashi’s chest to be heard clearer. Had his friend not had his arms around in the most gentle death grip he’s ever felt, Tony would have thought the male uncomfortable with his closeness. As it is, he can also feel the tenseness in Kanashi’s hand around his, and gently tugs her closer; continuing once she’s settled against his side with her arms going around his waist in a careful but firm hold.

He realizes after a few moments that they’re _shaking_. It’s just the barest of trembles, and he wouldn’t have noticed had he not been pressed against one in the front and the other from the side, but their reactions are clear to him when he’s so close. He doesn’t know why, but it seems to get worse the more he talks.

Suddenly, one hand from each reach to slide through his hair, cradling his head on either side.

“Do you trust us, Anthony?” Katashi’s voice murmurs in his ear, strong and sure despite his trembling body.

The question catches him off guard, since it’s obvious that he does. Pulling away, he stares at Katashi in question,a chill running down his spine at the look on his friend’s face.

His gaze has gone flinty, bone-chilling and terrifying when combined with his features that have settled into a grim expression. He can see a darkness to Katashi’s expression, a glance to the side revealing Kanashi’s face appearing the same. He can’t be sure of her at the moment, but Katashi...Katashi he knows he can, even if his friend had gotten far more terrifying than Tony remembered him being.

“....Why are you asking me that, Katashi?” His hand grips Katashi’s arm slightly, Tony staring at him as the male tenses further, looking at him with apprehension.

“...Because we need your absolute trust if we are to burn that _witch’s_ presence from your mind. I can feel her power, now that I’m looking for it, and. _It’s. Making. Me. Sick!_ ” The last part is a barely legible _hiss_ of rage, Katashi’s hand spasming slightly against his head in the instinct to curl into a fist even as he forces it to remain pressed to Tony’s scalp.

A part of Tony is shocked at how much _hate_ he can see for Wanda and what she’s done in both of their faces, so used to hearing her actions defended because she’s ‘ _just a little girl, Tony.’_ ‘ _She’s sorry for what she’s done, Tony, stop being petty.’_ ‘ _She’s lost both her parents and her brother,_ **_Tony_ ** _, she’s suffered enough.’_

It’s always been his word against hers, his past somehow _worse_ than hers even though she’d _volunteered_ for **_HYDRA_ ** , while he’d been in _legal_ business with the US. It was the fact that his weapons had been in the hands of terrorists killing the people he was trying to _protect_ that had made him guilty. He’d been to neglectful, and it had ended with thousands of their soldiers dead with the soul of a good man attached to a man who’d built his own heart and a suit to escape.

But, now there’s Katashi, and Kanashi. Two people besides Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey who feel the same about Maximoff. Not to mention the terrifying fact that her magic _is still fucking with his head_.

Despite his abhorrence for all things magical, Tony knows _for a fact_ that Katashi won’t do anything to hurt him. Won’t even think of it. He’s gotten enough proof to trust the man throughout his entire childhood. He doesn’t find any change in that now that they’re older. And, Kanashi seems to be an almost exact double of him, despite the little differences that set them apart. She’s still curled against him, her fingers running through his hair soothingly as her other hand rests carefully on his back

If he can trust Katashi, even with all his trust issues, then he knows he can do the same with Kanashi.

Because _no one_ can be that gentle if they plan to hurt you.

So, he steels himself, closing his eyes and leaning into their touch, and gives a halting nod.

“I trust you. Please, get her _out_.”


	3. Update of the Beta situation

AlAlright! So, I now have Betas working on this story, and with any luck I'll have chapters 1, 2, and 3 done very soon! 

 

Once again, thank anyone who volunteered and please send positive vibes to BellaSair92!

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the LOVELY~ Bellasair92! Thank you, oh so very much!!
> 
> This story is currently under revision! I'll try and get it finished soon!


End file.
